We Don't Have To Dance
by CharxJay
Summary: We don't have to talk, We don't have to dance, We don't have to smile, We don't have to make friends. It's so nice to meet you, Let's never meet again. We don't have to talk, We don't have to dance
The club was loud, but the twenty two year old blond was use to the noise. Loud noises are something he's gotten use to with his job. What's his job you asked; oh just an international popstar. The blond made his way onto the dance floor after a few drinks at the bar. Dancing his with anyone who would move their bodies with him as the music played loudly. The club was pretty full of people, many different looks and styles and he actually likes it here. In the club full of people; people with tattoos on their neck and their hands, people with bright drunken smiles as they swayed to the beat of the music. Brown eyes watched as everyone moved, he could see the mistakes people were making. How they'd grow to regret it later but that didn't matter to him as he made his way towards another on the dancefloor, a flirtatious smile spreading across his lips as he then gestured for the other to follow him towards the bar. He brought the other a drink and struck up a light conversation.

His friends didn't get it; they never would unless it was spelled out for them. He was a mess and no one could see it. He wasn't doing anything good for himself, everything was a danger towards himself and he regretted a lot of things but he couldn't care less. He's heard the whispers of those as he goes by; they make what he feels and take it into a hellish place. He would call it hell, but he's sure hell would be much better than this. So he likes to go out and make new regrets with new people.

"Come on; let's go back to my place. It's _much_ better then here." He spoke raising an eyebrow lightly, waiting for the other to reply. The blond smiled as he was answered by the other walking towards the exit.

* * *

How could they stand him? He couldn't get it; his temper was flaring up a lot lately. Maybe it was due to the stress of collage, or that his friendships were once again being threatened by something _so_ stupid. In fact the reason he went to the club was to dull his anger; he may have smashed a bottle against his wall in a fit of rage. He doesn't know where it came from; he doesn't know where _anything_ in his life is coming from anymore. So he set out for a drive to find the first club that looked enticing to him, finding one he made his way in. Thank god for him being older than the rest of his group, it allowed for him to go places like this without them. Sure he loved them, but there was too much drama going on right now and he felt he needed some space to clear his head.

He's not even himself anymore, that confidence he shows; yeah while it was once true it is now as false as the smile that he fakes. He's trying to keep up his image to his friend's, because he can't be someone else. He can't become the person who he feels burning inside of him. The twenty one year old didn't really get the joy in drinking but that never stopped him from doing so. He downed a few drinks and let go of his worries as they faded and he danced along to the blaring music. He wasn't really one to go home with someone from a night out; mainly because when he's usually gone out he's been with his friends but tonight he was offered it and he decided to take the offer.

* * *

The apartment was quiet as the pair entered, the oldest of the pair switched on a light before heading straight to the kitchen and poured the pair a drink but it was a waste of time as lips crashed against each other. They weren't going to fight it; they both knew in the back of their minds that this is what was going to happen from the moment the performer walked up him. The performer took the lead and they made it to the bedroom. Not bothering to turn on any lights as clothes got discarded onto the floor in quick movements. Feelings rushed, and things got heated very fast as bodies clashed together. Fingers and mouths moving over unfamiliar skin, making the other make noise to fill the silence of the room. The best part of this is? Well I guess that is where you stand on this. No names were exchanged and they barely talked, this was just going to be as it is and nothing more. It didn't need to be anything more than it was. A quick fling between the pair and they'll never see each other again.


End file.
